


Push & Pull

by daleksanddetectives



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Swimming, swimlock, swimmerlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:39:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daleksanddetectives/pseuds/daleksanddetectives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They meet at a nation-wide race.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push & Pull

**Author's Note:**

> /wow this is nerve wracking i've been working on this for ages and finally i can post some of it this is like my word document baby. also gonna get parentlock up soon that first chapter is going well/  
> So this is a swimmer!Sherlock & John AU, because why not? First chapter is short snapshots which lead up to the beginning of the story in chapter two~  
> Rated M for future chapters. 
> 
> I also did a little art to go with this here: daleksanddetectives.tumblr.com/post/54625022422  
> And am working on another which will be posted there^^ soon.

John: 24

Sherlock: 20

* * *

They meet at a nation-wide race.

Sherlock Holmes, winner of the day’s silver medal, talks to his coach, Gregory Lestrade. Sherlock dries his hair with a towel while Greg fills him in on the details of the next competition.

“Excuse me,” a small voice interrupts.

Both Sherlock and Greg turn to see a shorter, stockier man, hair still dripping wet.

“I’m sorry for interrupting you; I wanted to congratulate you on the race today. Brilliant performance,” he smiles, holding out his hand, “I’m John Watson.”

“Yes, I know,” Sherlock says, taking John’s hand and shaking it, “we’ve competed against each other several times. Sherlock Holmes. This is my coach, Lestrade.”

John’s eyes widen, “ _the_ Sherlock Holmes? I’ve been told to look out for you.” He winks.

Sherlock chuckles, “shouldn’t I be the one saying that to you? Three Continents Watson, you’ve competed around the world and won the bronze for the UK in the last Olympics.”

Pink tints John’s cheeks, “that was a while ago, but yeah.”

“You were injured.”

Sherlock phrases it delicately as fact, rather than question. It had been more than an injury, a vicious attack that had been all over the papers. Watson, the UK’s own swimming superstar attacked in his own neighbourhood. The media didn’t have any of the details, but Sherlock had heard it had been bad and had almost ruined Watson’s career.

John rolls his scarred shoulder uncomfortably, “yeah. People are usually too shy to mention it around me.”

“I,” Sherlock coughs, “admire that you continued swimming. Something like that would have brought most to their knees.”

John smiles warmly, “it almost did. But swimming was more fun than the exercises I was given.”

“I know the owner here.” Sherlock says suddenly, “she owes me some favours and lets me use the pool whenever I want.” He swallows and motions towards the water, “you’re welcome to join me on an evening. It’s usually just me in the pool and Mrs Hudson cleaning up. Occasionally Lestrade if I’m working on times. If you wanted somewhere to train quietly, you are more than welcome.”

“I’d love to, thank you Mr Holmes.”

“Call me Sherlock.”

***

In the next few weeks, Sherlock and John time their training sessions to be around the same time. First off, they time it so as one is leaving, the other arrives, allowing them five minutes to catch up. Eventually they started arriving at the same time. Chatting until they reached the water, and then picking up where they left off when they went to shower.

John’s warm, ‘d’you fancy a cup of tea’ led to a ritual at the tea shop around the corner from the pool.

“You have to keep your blood sugar up after exerting all that energy,” John winked over his mug one evening.

Sherlock had smiled and stirred another sugar packet into his drink, “and I’d best listen to the advice of an Olympian.”

They talked about everything and nothing. Sherlock learned that John lived nearby, just a five minute walk away, was currently studying to become a doctor in university, and although it was a lot of work he always made sure to make time for his swimming. John learned that Sherlock had taken a month of a chemistry course at uni and had offended the lecturer so badly they’d requested he leave, and was now working as a consultant for Scotland Yard.

“I say consultant,” he had said around his sandwich, “they’re all morons who wouldn’t see evidence if it stood in front of them and danced, so they rely on me to solve their cases.”

John had grinned, “that’s brilliant.”

***

“How did you get your scar?” Sherlock asks from the floor one evening, “I feel we know each other well enough now for me to ask.”

John stretches his arms, “on my shoulder? Wrong place at the wrong time. Stabbed. Almost ruined my swimming career, that’s for sure. Surely you saw it in the papers?”

Sherlock’s eyes widen. When he doesn’t say anything, John continues.

“I grew up in a bit of a rough neighbourhood and, like I say, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Few kids around the same age as me came at me armed with bats and sticks. One kid I knew from school had a kitchen knife and stuck it in my shoulder. End of story. The papers never did get the full thing.”

Sherlock’s eyes drift around John’s face, searching for something.

“You still have nightmares about it.”

“It was,” he pauses, “violent. Lucky to get out with just this and a few nightmares to be honest.” He smiles warmly, “how did you know? Trying to be clever again?”

Sherlock smirks, “the science of deduction, John. Surely I gave you the link to my website on it now?”

“Oi, smartarse, you didn’t actually. I had to google it.”

“And? What did you think?”

John gives him a look.

Sherlock tuts and changes the topic, “how did you get into swimming?” He asks, resuming his stretches.

“Learned to swim in the lake near my grandma’s house in the country. Harry and I would go for a few weeks every summer and my granddad taught me. Harry lost interest quickly, but I loved it. When I got home I enrolled in classes and eventually they told me I was good enough to compete, and here I am. Your turn.”

“My what?” Sherlock says, finally standing up.

“How’d you start?” John grins.

Sherlock stands on the edge of the pool, wriggling his toes over the side, “same as you. My brother, Mycroft, taught me in our pond. I caught two bugs that day. A stomach bug that had me in bed for a week and the swimming bug. I wanted to learn more, test my stamina and strength. My parents weren’t keen on the idea, but allowed it anyway. It kept me happy and out from under their feet, everyone won.”

“And how’d you get to this level then? Just swimming in your pond?” John crosses his arms and holds back another grin.

Sherlock smiles elusively and dives in, making a point of splashing John as he begins his first length. John tuts and carefully sits on the edge, dangling his feet in the water and gets ready to time Sherlock.

**Author's Note:**

> More swimlock: tumblr.com/tagged/swimlock


End file.
